Maria awoke with a start, clutching her empty hand to her chest and gasping. A strange, almost hypnotic feeling had taken over the end of her dream until she found a single red rose on her bedside table. She had sat and stared at it in her dream for what felt like an eternity. "Where did you come from?" She had asked it, clutching the gorgeous flower to her heart.
It's red petals felt real, velvety and soft. It had a slight amount of dew on the petals, and it's fragrance was sweet like one would never think a flower could be. It brought her an immediate sense of peace in her dream, and she could have just sat and been comforted forever.
However duty called, her body had betrayed her and woken her. She looked to her window, hoping to feel a cool breeze, but it had been shut. Brows furrowed in confusion, she tried to recall if she had woken to shut it, but she hadn't done such a thing. Typically her siblings were polite enough to stay out of her room, and she could not think anyone from outside would be anywhere near their house on the farthest edge of the village.
A crashing sound resounded from the living area and she lurched forward, not bothering to change this morning and moving into the area swiftly. It all seemed to happen so fast, her father was on the floor, blood pooled next to his head and dripping from his mouth. It was an unbearable sight, "Father? Father! Wake up!" She knew he wouldn't, but still tried. "Father, please..." The tears she had been holding flowed freely, dripping down her face. All of her siblings began to wake while she checked his pulse, attempting to lift him. Thomas helped immediately, Lacey on the other hand simply went back to the couch and sat with her head in her hands.
"Daddy?" Charlotte sounded like a church mouse, so quiet.
"Brandon, take Charlotte to Maria's room. She shouldn't see this part." Thomas barked.
Eleanor simply stared, such a serious child. Disconnected was the only thing she could feel in the moment. It could not be real that her own father would suffer a head injury and die while he was already sick. He knew to simply call out and they would help him with anything. She was unsure of what to do. Sophia sat up from her bed mat and grabbed Eleanor's hand, looking down the entire time. It was far too painful to remember her own family's death, which had come without warning to her.
"Prop him up on his bed mat, I will treat the wound," Maria cried, but her and Thomas both knew that he was gone in that moment. "Please father, don't leave- you never got to see your children grown..." But her words went unheard by him as he was already passed.
"Phillip," their mother called hoarsely. "Phillip!" She did her best to scramble from the bed, but even then she knew it was too late for him. She fell onto the floor, pulling herself into a ball and allowing her sobs to rack through her. "Why? Why did you not ask for help?" Mary was pitiful in that moment, her entire body shaking as she curled into herself, wishing only to disappear.
Lacey finally seemed to decide it was worth reacting and she joined her mother's side and simply held her, allowing their mother to cry freely. Things would be so much more difficult as a widow with seven children of her own, and an adopted child. Although things were not looking good for her oldest son either, and she suddenly realized she could lose him as well and was overtaken by more violent sobbing.
"Clean the blood from the floor please," Maria instructed Thomas. Even Thomas had tears in his eyes, but he did not let them fall as he accepted he would become the patriarch of the family soon and needed to be strong. "Eleanor, Sophia, please help Lacey take mother and Levi to a separate room. I will clean father's body, and Thomas and I will arrange the viewing and burial."
Where would they bury him? There were not any cemeteries open nearby due to the illness, and it would seem inappropriate to simply put him in the yard. Of course, Maria knew where she needed to go for the burial, but it seemed nearly unbearable to think of going to that space, one where her brother had once collapsed at the beginning of his decline. "And just where do you think we will bury him?" Thomas asked once the room was cleared of the other grieving children.
"The field. We will need to find a stone for him, as well as a cross for his grave. Perhaps we could build a coffin for him as well, or do you think it would be best to simply allow him to return to nature?" Maria was beginning to grow cold and numb, calculating the best option for the burial of their father when she had barely had a moment to process it. Wiping his head wound with a sheet, and closing his eyes.
"And who will dig the grave?" Thomas sounded like Hell, his voice gravelly. He knew it would be him, but who would help him? And it felt so wrong just to toss their father into a hole, but it must be better than the pit in the center of the town where the dead simply rotted in the open air.
"You and Brandon, brother. Sophia will be able to assist with drinks and food while you dig." Maria noticed an odd pattern to the head wound, more like it had been bashed rather than having just fallen and hit his head. "Is there anything he could have landed on? The wound doesn't look like a typical fall to me."
Thomas eyed the area, then his father. "It looks like a head wound to me, just the fall. Do not try to shift blame, that will make it no easier to deal with." He brought her a pot of clean water and a rag. "Wipe him with this, I will finish cleaning and then take Brandon to the field. It is unnecessary to worry about a coffin, and I'm sure he would wish to have a natural burial." It couldn't be ignored that they would have a very difficult time. "I will require more help than just Brandon, the hole must be deep so scavenging animals cannot find him."
"Must you be so blunt at this moment?" She felt as if his words were a lash, cutting through her skin into her heart.
"It is true. We must be quick in this situation. Once he is at rest we can mourn. Once he is clean, I will put him in fresh clothing and wrap him in a cloth. If you get the grave started, Brandon and I should be able to finish it." Thomas was all business, putting up a shield to keep himself from tears.
"I-" She stopped, "I will do that. Just please be careful brother." She stood, going to change into some trousers and a shirt of her fathers to work in, tying her hair into a tight chignon and placing it under a cap.
Upon exiting the house she could not shake a feeling of superstition, as if she was being watched from a distance, but when she would glance, she was alone. The shovel and ground breaking tools in the shed hadn't been touched in over a year, and she made her trek into the woods to find the field.